“Do you feel the cold, Stephen?” she asked.
“No,” said Festing. “Wonderful view, isn't it? But what's it like outside?”
“Very still. Everything has a soft look; the harsh glitter's gone and the air has not the sting it had. Somehow the calm's majestic. The pictures one sees of the mountains hardly give a hint; one feels this is the grandest country in the world, but it looks strangely unfinished.”
Festing laughed. “A few ranches, roads, and cornfields would make a difference? Well, they follow the Steel in Canada and it's my job to clear the way. But the soft look promises warmer weather, and Bob will get ahead if a Chinook wind begins to blow. I imagine he hasn't done very much the last few days.”
“You mustn't bother about what Bob is doing,” Helen said firmly.
“Very well. Light the lamp and sit where I can see you. There's something I want to say.”
Helen did so and waited until Festing resumed: “To begin with, I've been a short-sighted, censorious fool about Bob. I'm ashamed to remember that I said he was a shiftless wastrel. The worst is I can't apologize; it wouldn't make things better to tell him what I thought.”
“That's obvious,” said Helen, with a smile. “Still, in a way perhaps, you were not so very wrong. Bob was something of a wastrel; his wife has made him a useful man.”
“Another thing I was mistaken about! I rather despised Sadie. Now I want to take off my hat when I think of her. But it's puzzling. A girl without polish, taste, or accomplishments marries a man who has them all. She has no particular talents; nothing, in fact, except some beauty, rude integrity, and native shrewdness. Yet she, so to speak, works wonders. Puts Bob on his feet and leads him on, when nobody else could have pulled him out of the mire!”
“She loved him,” said Helen softly. “Love gave her patience and cleverness. However, I think Sadie did not always lead Bob. She knew when to drive.”